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The Prophet

The Prophet

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Published by WisdomRider

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Published by: WisdomRider on Jul 24, 2011
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05/06/2014

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THEPROPHET
 by 
 Khalil Gibran
 
2
KHALIL GIBRANTHE PROPHET
T
HE
 C
OMING
 
OF
 
THE
 S
HIP
 
 Almustafa, the chosen and the beloved, who was a dawn unto his own day, had  waited twelve years in the city of Orphalese for his ship that was to return and  bear him back to the isle of his birth.  And in the twelfth year, on the seventh day of Ielool, the month of reaping, he climbed the hill without the city walls and looked seaward; and he beheld his ship coming with the mist. Then the gates of his heart were flung open, and his joy flew far over the sea. And he closed his eyes and prayed in the silences of his soul. But as he descended the hill, a sadness came upon him, and he thought in his heart: How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city. Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without re-gret? Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot  withdraw from them without a burden and an ache. It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands. Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and  with thirst.  Yet I cannot tarry longer. The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I must embark. For to stay, though the hours burn in the night, is to freeze and crystallize and be  bound in a mould. Fain would I take with me all that is here. But how shall I?  A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that gave it wings. Alone must it seek the ether.

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